Jack at Sea: All Work and No Play Made Him a Dull Boy

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  A FINNY PRIZE.

  The run through the Canal did not seem monotonous to Sir John, for a newfeeling of satisfaction was growing within him, and everything lookedbright. The crew appeared contented, and the work went on with an easeand regularity that was pleasant to see. The various objects ofinterest were pointed out, but Jack paid very little attention to them,his attention being principally taken up by the working of the yacht,and he was, in spite of the heat, up and down several times, the engine,with its bright machinery and soft gliding movements, so full ofcondensed power, having a strange fascination for him.

  Then they were out in the Red Sea, with its sandy and sun-bakedmountains, and the water flashing like molten silver.

  Here it was perfectly calm, and Jack watched when the speed wasincreased; and as the captain wished to show Sir John what the yachtcould do under pressure, the order for full speed ahead was given by thetouch of an index, and they cut through the dazzling water, sending upan arrow-shaped wave of displacement, and for the next two miles goingat a tremendous rate.

  Then all at once the captain began to give orders, and the neatly-furledcanvas was cast loose and hoisted, for puffs of air came from thenortheast like as if from a furnace mouth, and away they glided oncemore. The fires were drawn, the steam blown off, and their ratedecreased, though it was not far behind that of one of the greatsteamers which passed them on its way to China.

  Once well on their way, lines were brought out from the little magazineand furnished with sinkers of lead selected by the mate to suit thespeed at which glittering silvered artificial baits were thrown out todrag forty or fifty yards behind; but though every kind of lure on boardwas tried, hours and hours went by without a touch. But long beforethis Jack had turned to the mate, who was leaning over the stern on theopposite side.

  "Isn't this very stupid?" he said.

  "Oh no," said Mr Bartlett merrily. "It's a capital practice forpatience."

  "I don't know that I want to practise patience," said the ladthoughtfully. "But I say, I felt it when we started. Surely the fishwill not be stupid enough to bite at these baits."

  "It does not seem like it," said the mate, smiling.

  "They will sometimes when the water's a bit rougher and we're goingfast, but they are too clever for us to-day."

  "Then we can give up," said Jack with a sigh of relief.

  "Give up? No, that will never do. If we could only catch one fish, wecould use it to cut up for bait."

  "Ugh! the cannibals," cried Jack.

  "Yes, plenty of fish are; but as we haven't one, and don't seem as if wecan catch one, I'll go below and see if the cook can help me to a bit ofpork skin to cut into a bait or two."

  He made his line fast and went forward, while, standing now in theshadow cast by the great sail behind him, Jack held the line in a quietlistless way, gazing at the distant mountains and wondering at thebeauty of the colour with which they glowed in the pure air. He feltcalm and restful, and the soft sensuous warmth of the wind was pleasant.It was restful too this gliding over the sea, with the yacht gentlyrising and falling and careening over to the breeze. The trouble of thedays to come seemed farther off, and for a few moments the germs of akind of wonderment that he should have looked upon this voyage as atrouble began to grow in his mind.

  Then he was roused from his pleasant musings as if by an electric shockattended by pain. The line he had coiled round his hand suddenlytightened with a jerk which wrenched at his shoulder and cut into hisfingers, and he uttered a shout for help which made the man at the wheelturn to look. A big black-haired fellow, who was busy with amarline-spike and a piece of rope, dropped both and ran to the lad'shelp, but not before he had brought his left hand up to help his right,taking hold of the fishing-line and holding on with the feeling that thenext minute he would be dragged overboard, but too proud to loose hishold all the same.

  "Got him, sir?" said the sailor. "I've got something," panted Jack."It's horribly strong."

  "They are in here. Let him go."

  "What!" cried Jack indignantly; "certainly not."

  "I don't mean altogether, sir. Let him run, or the hook will breakout."

  "But how?"

  "You've plenty of line on the winch, sir; let him have some loose toplay about and tire himself."

  "Oh yes, I see; but it's jerking dreadfully." The man picked up the bigwooden winch upon which the line was wound and held it fast.

  "Now, sir, hold on tight with your left hand, while you untwist the linefrom your right. That's the way. Now catch hold tight and let thewheel run slowly. There's a hundred yards more here. It will let himtire himself. That's it, he won't go very far; then you can wind inagain--giving and taking till he leaves off fighting."

  "Hallo! here, Mr Meadows," cried the mate; "this is hardly fair. Whyyou're the best fisherman after all. That's it, let him go every timehe makes a dart like this: now he's slacking again. Wind up, sir, windup."

  Jack obeyed very clumsily, for it wanted practice to hold the big woodenwinch steady with one hand while he wound with the other, and before hehad recovered ten yards the fish made a fresh dart, not astern, but awaynearly at right angles with the course of the ship, tiring itself byhaving to drag the now curved line through the water.

  "Now again," cried the mate; "wind--wind."

  Jack's inclination said, "Give the line over to the man who understandsit," but pride said "No"; and he wound away till the wheel was nearlyjerked from his hands by a fresh dart made by the captive.

  And so it went on for some minutes, till the fish began to show symptomsof becoming exhausted; so did Jack, upon whose face the perspiration wasstanding in beads.

  "Here, Lenny," cried the mate, "go and get the big gaff-hook. We shallhave this fellow."

  The man ran forward, and Jack, with eyes fixed, began to play his fishwith a little more _nous_, but it was terribly hard work.

  "Tell me when you're tired," said the mate.

  "Now."

  "Shall I play him for you?"

  "No, no! Don't touch it," cried Jack, who was unaware for some momentsthat he had an audience to look on.

  "Oh no, I won't touch till you tell me," said the mate.

  "Bravo!" cried the doctor; "capital. Well done, Jack, that's the way.I ought to have been here. Why you've got hold of a thumper."

  So it proved, for the fish showed no sign of giving in for anotherquarter of an hour, and various were the comments made as to theprobability of its being got on deck; but at last the darts grew shorterand shorter, and far astern they saw a gleam from time to time ofsomething silvery and creamy as there was a wallowing and rolling on thesurface, and now the mate took hold of the keen hook attached to a lightten-foot ash pole.

  "Perhaps you'd like to gaff him, Doctor Instow," said the mate.

  "No, no," replied the doctor. "Fair play. You two were fishing. Landhim yourself."

  "What shall I do now?" said Jack, who was panting with his exertions.

  "Let the winch go down on the deck, and haul the fish in hand over handtill you get him close in."

  Jack followed his instructions, and the captive, completely exhausted,now came in fast enough, proving to be far larger than any of thosepresent had expected to see, but about a tenth of what Jack had imaginedfrom the strength the creature had displayed. In fact there had beenmoments when the lad had again been calculating whether at one of thefiercest rushes he would not have to let go and so escape being draggedover the rail.

  But now, half drowned by being drawn through the water, the fish came inslowly and quietly, the lad having all the hauling to himself, till,leaning over, the mate made a dart and a snatch with the greatgaff-hook, the weight on Jack's arms suddenly ceased, and, helped by thebig dark sailor, Mr Bartlett hauled the prisoner quickly in over therail, for it to lie beating the white boards with sounding slaps of itscrescent-moon-shaped tail.

  "Well done!" cried Sir John. "What brilliant colours
!"

  "Hah! yes," cried the doctor. "This is something like fishing. What isit, captain?"

  "Oh, one of the great mackerel tribe fellows they have in theMediterranean. It isn't a bonito, for it's too big, but just as brightin its colours. Can't be a small tunny come down through the Canal, canit?"

  "I'm puzzled," said the mate, bending over the beautiful prize. "It maybe; but whatever it is, Mr Meadows here has had a fine stroke of luck,and we shall have fish for dinner."

  Jack flushed with the excitement of the capture, and stood looking on atthe beauty of the creature's colours in the bright sunshine, while themate placed the end of the gaff-pole between its jaws before attemptingto extract the great triple hook which hung by a swivel beneath thesilvered shining bait.

  "I should say it is one of the bonitos," said the doctor thoughtfully."It has that slimness just before the tail fin spreads out, and thereare plenty of flying fish here, of course."

  "Plenty, sir," said the captain. "I dare say if you go forward you'llsee them beginning to skip out of the water, startled by the yacht.Seen any yet, Mr Jack?"

  "Not yet," was the reply.

  "Yes," said the doctor, "I think that's what it is. They chase theflying fish, and this fellow must have taken your long spoon-bait forone of them. Don't you think so, Bartlett?"

  "Yes, sir, you are right; but without exaggeration I never saw so fine aone as this. Why," he continued, clasping his hands round the thin partnear the tail and raising the fish for a few moments before letting itfall back on the white boards, "it is very little short of fortypounds."

  "It must be quite that," cried the doctor. "Well, it's always the way,the new beginner catches the biggest fish. I should have liked to hookthat fellow. Did he pull much, Jack?"

  "Dreadfully. My arms feel strained by the jerks it gave."

  "I congratulate you, my boy," said Sir John. "It is a beauty."

  Then the captain spoke:

  "When you've done admiring it, gentlemen, there is some one else wouldlike to have a word. I mean the cook. This fellow is fresh now, butthey go off at a tremendous rate, and it will be worthless in a fewhours. Pass the word there for the cook."

  The word was passed, and the worthy in question came up smiling.

  "What do you say to him?" said the captain. "Too big and coarse?"

  "Oh no, sir," cried the man. "I'll answer for it I can send somecutlets off it that will be excellent, and make plenty for the crew aswell."

  It seemed a pity to Jack for the beautifully coloured prize to be handedover, but already some of the bright tints were fading, and as soon asit was borne off the mate made a sign to Lenny, who brought a swab and abucket to remove the wet and slime.

  "What do you say to another turn, Mr Meadows?" said the mate, smiling.

  Jack smiled and began to rub his shoulder, so the tackle was hung inloops to dry, and the lad went forward to watch the flying fish spin outof the water and glide along upon their transparent wing-like fins; andhe returned to watch the beautiful little creatures again and again as,evidently taking the hull of the yacht for some huge pursuing fish, theydarted up from under her counter to drop back far away after theirforced journey, and swim on till they gathered force and withswallow-like skim took another flight.

  "Isn't it near dinner-time?" he said at last to the doctor, who was byhis side watching the flights.

  "Must be, I should say," was the reply, as that gentleman glanced at hiswatch. "Yes: close upon it. Glad of it, for I begin to feel a bitpeckish in spite of this heat. I wonder what your fish will be like."

  He soon learned, for the cook was right, and all pronounced itexcellent; but there was something more than ordinary flavour about thefish from the Red Sea, and the doctor gave Sir John a meaning look, oneto which Jack's father responded by a short nod.

  Edward had had his opinions too, about his young master--opinions whichsometimes made him look pleased, at others shake his head.

  "Young governor's going it," he muttered, as he stood near watching thefishing. "Fancy him getting excited over hooking a fish, and holding onby the line. Beats anything I ever knew of before. There, you neverknow what's in a boy till you begin to get it out of him. Why that linemust have cut his hands awful, but he never reg'larly 'owled about it,only rubbed the places a bit when he got a chance. Wonder whether thedoctor's giving him some kind of physic as makes him come out like this.If he is, I should like to have a dose or two to bring me up to themark. It's wonderful what a change he's made."

  Edward ceased for a few moments.

  "Wonder how he gives it him, and what he takes it in. He don't knowhe's taking it, that's for certain. It must be on the sly, or I shouldhave seen it, and the glass and spoon. That's it. He puts it in hiscoffee; I'll be bound to say that's it--in his coffee. I'll be on thewatch."

  "Dunno why I should though," said the man, after a few moments' musing."'Tain't my place to know anything about it, and if it does him good,where's the harm? And it is doing him good, that's for certain; but Ishould like to know what it is, and when he gives it."